


Show Me

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Basically Arthur Can See Merlin's Thoughts and Dreams, Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, Dream Sex, Fluff, Jealous Arthur, Leon Refuses To Let Anything Faze Him, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mutual Masturbation, Spells Gone Wrong, Telepathic Bond, Though It's A One-Sided Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:59:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: An attack from a vindictive sorcerer leaves Arthur able to hear Merlin's thoughts and share his dreams, revealing secrets Merlin would rather keep hidden.





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written only for the love of Camelot and never for profit.

If asked, Arthur Pendragon would concede that being king had many perks – spacious housing, full support staff, top-tier catering. That luxury, however, came at a cost – endless meetings, backstabbing nobles, very little privacy.

Sometimes a king might need a break from it all, journeying into the forest for a hunt, accompanied only his most loyal servant and trusted friend. Said companion might feel nothing but disdain for this recreational pursuit of the nobility and complain loudly, scaring away the game. That disturbance might then attract the attention of a disgruntled sorcerer, hellbent on punishing Arthur for an injustice committed years ago by his late father.

Interestingly, that was what exactly what was happening at this very moment.

“You will pay for Uther’s crimes,” the old man cried before shouting an incantation at the king.

Arthur’s sword and armor were useless to stop the swirling ball of arcane energy flying toward him. Just before it hit, he saw Merlin lunge in front, arms outstretched, attempting to shield him. Arthur wanted to tell Merlin to move, to save himself, but it was too late. The blast hit and Arthur lost consciousness.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ow. My head.”

“You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“I wish I wasn’t. My head is splitting and my whole body hurts.”

“Serves you right for trying to kill defenseless animals.”

Arthur thought Merlin’s tone seemed more insolent than usual but his head ached too much to say anything about it. He tried to sit up but fell back.

“Easy. Don’t move too fast. You took a powerful blow. The magic has probably weakened you.”

“What happened to the old man?”

“He’s gone. We won’t have to worry about him again.”

Merlin smiled, his tone far more confident than Arthur expected.

“How can you be certain?”

“Because I took care of him. Just like I always do.”

“Tell me Merlin, how did _you_ ‘take care of’ a powerful sorcerer?”

Merlin faltered for a split second, his smile fading, expression confused, then recovered.

“I elicit apprehension. He took one look at me and ran off, vowing to renounce his evil ways.”

The levity in Merlin’s voice didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Right.” Arthur wanted to know what had actually happened but there were more pressing matters to deal with. “Help me stand. I’d rather not spend the night in the forest with only your intimidating demeanor to protect us.”

“I should warn you that the attack spooked the horses. We’re going to have to walk.”

Arthur groaned. The day just kept getting better.

Merlin knelt in front of Arthur, offering a hand to pull him to a sitting position. It took a few moments for the king to get his bearings, but soon his was standing, leaning on Merlin for support as they made their way toward Camelot.

“You have got to cut back on the herb-crusted capon. I don’t blame your horse for running off.”

“That’s quite rude, Merlin. Your king is unwell and you make cracks about his weight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t deny it.”

“Deny what? I haven’t said anything for the past half-mile.”

“That’s not true. You were prattling on about herb-crusted capon and…”

Merlin stopped abruptly, causing Arthur stumble.

“I didn’t…”

“Merlin, my body may be sore but my ears still work. I clearly heard you. Not only did you call me heavy, you remarked on a nice patch of comfrey that you’re sure Gaius will want, you planned out my clothes for the next week, and you went off on a long-winded rant about my father and his policies, which, incidentally, actually made sense, considering that it’s largely his fault that I’m not in my chambers right now having dinner.”

Arthur tried to resume walking but Merlin refused to budge.

“Arthur, can you please look at my face?”

“Why would I do that, Merlin? The sun’s starting to set. We need to get back, not stand here…”

“Just look at my mouth, Arthur. Please. And then we can head back. I just need you to…”

“Merlin… your lips aren’t moving.”

“Yep. You’re hearing my thoughts.”

“Great. That’s bloody wonderful.”

Merlin’s thoughts revealed that he couldn’t agree more.

Arthur remained silent for a minute, staring intently at Merlin.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Arthur again stood silently in front of Merlin, a slight smile playing across his lips.

“Can we please go home now?” Merlin asked.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Arthur replied. “At least you can’t hear what I’m thinking. That last bit about your ears would definitely have gotten a rise out of you.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that Merlin was talkative the remainder of the walk back to the castle would be an understatement of the highest order. Despite Arthur’s threats to confine him to the stocks, assign him extra chores, or send him off to spend yet another week with George, Merlin refused to shut up, nattering on about every inane topic and piece of gossip that came to mind. Arthur did not care that Agatha from the kitchens was seeing Tyr from the stables, that Hunith’s favorite flowers were violets, that Percival hadn’t actually been ill with palsy, or that Gaius’s knees ached when it rained.

Ok. The bit about Percival was intriguing. The point was, Arthur now knew these unsolicited facts and what felt like thousands more.

The longer they walked, the more Arthur began to suspect why his servant refused to be quiet. Merlin was thinking about something – something he wanted to keep from the king. To an extent Arthur could respect that. Every man should be entitled to his private thoughts being, well, private. But Arthur also had a growing suspicion that Merlin was pondering their current shared predicament and that made it his business too.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Kittens. Don’t they have the cutest little tails? They way they stand straight up and…”

“I mean about me and you and this maddening link.”

“I think it would be best to see what Gaius has to say.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur appreciated Gaius’s dedication to his profession, but there were times when he really wished that the old man was a bit less thorough in his methodology. He subjected the king to invasive pokes, prods, and a foul-tasting diagnostic potion. Arthur’s only consolation was that Merlin had to endure the same.

As they waited for the potion’s results, Gaius had them test the range of their connection. Distance apparently had no effect. Even when in the deepest dungeon Arthur could still clearly hear Merlin’s thoughts from the highest castle tower. Much to Arthur’s relief, the link remained one-way.

The roosters of Camelot were beginning to crow when Gaius reported nothing physically wrong with the king that rest couldn’t remedy. Taking the sleeping draught that Gaius offered, Arthur dismissed Merlin and slipped off to his chambers.

As Arthur lay in bed, waiting for the draught to take effect, the sound of Merlin’s humming filled his mind. Arthur recognized the tune, remembering it from his stay in Ealdor years ago. Hunith had sung it to herself while cooking. The sound soothed Arthur, lulling him to sleep. Just before he drifted off, he thought he heard voices.

“I tried, Gauis, I really did, but nothing seemed to work. I even tried…”

“My boy, if you aren’t powerful enough to reverse it, then I doubt…”

“But if I were to ask…”

“It’s too risky, Merlin. You’ll expose…”

“I have to do something. I don’t know how long I can keep him out…”

Were Merlin and Gaius talking? Or was he simply starting to dream? Arthur tried to focus on the words but the draught took hold, pulling the king into a deep slumber.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur awoke to the sound of metal clanging.

“Shit,” Merlin muttered.

“Everything alright?” the king called sleepily.

“Dropped a knife.”

“It’s fine. I can wait while you fetch another from the kitchens.”

“Right. I’ll just pop off to the kitchens then. Never mind the flights of stairs I just climbed to get your lunch here. I’ll go do it again. And then one more time when you’ve finished eating. It’s not a problem at all. Even though not everyone got to laze about all day. Some of us barely slept at all because we had to help Gaius with research. I swear there are pack mules in this kingdom who work less than I do…”

“Ok, ok. I can make do with the fork. Just stop complaining.”

“Ah. So you heard all that.”

“Loud and clear.”

“Then we’ve disproven Gaius’s theory that the connection might wear off after a day. I knew that would be too easy.”

“So it would seem.”

Merlin hummed to himself for a moment so that, Arthur guessed, he could sort his thoughts privately.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. We’ve both been through a lot – you more than me. I only got knocked out. You have to worry about your king learning all of your deepest secrets.”

Arthur had meant simply to tease but, as he rose from the bed and walked toward the dining table, he saw a flash of terror in Merlin’s eyes.

“Not that I’m trying to discover your secrets. I like the air of mystery about you.”

He gave Merlin a smile as he sat and tried to will the other man to relax.

“Here.” Arthur raked some of his meal onto a spare plate and placed it to the side. “Sit. Eat. You’ll need the energy if you didn’t get much sleep.”

Merlin hesitated for a moment, then took a seat by Arthur, eagerly tucking into the food.

“I, on the other hand, slept fabulously. What does Gaius put in those draughts? I had the most vivid dreams.”

“Oh?”

“Most of them I don’t remember but there was one. I was back in Ealdor – at your mother’s house. I had just finished milking a cow…”

Merlin snorted.

“And Hunith was cooking breakfast. I was waiting to eat and she was telling me how happy she was that I came to visit. And there was this feeling. It was almost like…”

Arthur paused, trying to think of how to put it into words.

“This may sound strange, Merlin, but it was as if Hunith was _my_ mother and I could feel how much she loved me. That’s all I can remember. It seemed so real…”

“Well, um, I’m sure she’d be glad to see you again. I’ll just ready your clothes. It’s late afternoon but I imagine you’ll still want to make your rounds. Leon and the council know you took an injury yesterday and that you needed to rest. The horses made it back on their own but Tyr says that your saddle will need…”

Arthur realized that Merlin was once again chattering on to conceal his thoughts. Maybe something about the dream bothered him. Or maybe he just missed his mother. Arthur would ask but it was obviously something Merlin didn’t want to share.

“We could go visit her,” Arthur said, cutting Merlin off. “Not right now. But maybe after we’ve sorted this… whatever it is… we could ride out to Ealdor. You’ve not gone back in ages.”

“We? You’d want to come too?”

Oh. Arthur had said ‘we.’

“Well, yes. I haven’t gone on patrol that way in a while. And the village is just over the border. Now that Lot’s been deposed, Camelot’s on much better standing with Essetir so there’s no reason I couldn’t go with you. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“No, no. That would be good – great, actually.”

Merlin resumed his prattle, and while it obscured his thoughts, Arthur could still sense how happy the prospect of a visit home had made him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

What remained of the day proceeded rather uneventfully. Arthur decided there was no need to tell anyone else about his current predicament with Merlin. He attended to routine business, meeting with some of his councilors, checking in with Leon regarding the knights, and visiting Gaius to see if the physician had made any headway toward finding a cure. He hadn’t.

Merlin continued to hum and ramble idly, keeping his inner thoughts hidden as best he could. Since he normally prattled on, no one viewed this behavior as strange. Though he was curious about what secret had caused Merlin to panic earlier, Arthur actively tried to tune out anything that slipped through. While things were most definitely not back to normal, they were at least starting to relax into a routine.

The only hiccup came that night when Arthur made for bed.

“Help me undress.”

“Arthur, please. I’m tired. Surely a mighty king such as yourself is capable of…”

“ _Mer_ lin!”

“Very well, my lord.”

Arthur knew it was selfish of him to ask, what with Merlin not having slept much that day, but he didn’t want Merlin to leave. Of course Arthur could undress himself, but this kept them together for a little while longer.

Merlin seemed to have other plans, long fingers deftly undoing Arthur’s laces, quickly shuffling the king out of his clothes. In all the years Merlin had attended him, Arthur couldn’t recall an instance where the man had ever been more efficient.

As he went about his work, Merlin’s humming grew louder. His face betrayed nothing, but Arthur could sense an unease simmering within. Undressing him made Merlin… uncomfortable? Oh gods, that was never what Arthur had intended. Was this a new development or had it always bothered him?

Arthur tried to think of a way to broach the matter as Merlin jostled his body into sleeping breeches. Adjusting the waistband, Merlin’s fingers grazed his hip and Arthur felt a surge of emotion – the unease intensified but mixed in was also something… warm, very, very warm. Merlin switched from humming to babbling on about grain reports and harvest forecasts.

Finished, Merlin pulled away, avoiding Arthur’s eyes, and turned down the sheets. He muttered a hasty good night and slipped out of the king’s chambers. As Arthur climbed into bed, he wondered what the hell had happened.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

While he slept, Arthur had a dream so clear and vivid that he initially thought he’d awoken.

He tried to look around but it was too dark to see. He was lying in his bed, completely naked. Someone else was in the room – he could hear footsteps approaching, then the sound of falling fabric. Someone pulled back the covers. As Arthur shivered in the nighttime chill, the weight of the blankets was replaced with that of a body settling on top of him. It was very muscular, very male, and very aroused.

“I missed you today,” the unseen visitor whispered, wrapping strong arms around him and pushing him into the mattress.

That was new. Arthur had had his fair share of erotic dreams about men over the years but never once had he envisioned himself underneath another man. Without thinking, he reached out to trace his fingers along his partner’s hips.

Soft lips trailed kisses down his neck, warm breath playing across his skin. Arthur moaned, rocking against his partner’s arousal. The man laughed gently, allowing more of his weight to rest on Arthur in an attempt to still him.

“I see you missed me too, but there’s no need to rush. We have all night. Slow down.”

The voice was very familiar but Arthur couldn’t quite place it. And anyway, there were more important matters to attend to.

“Make me,” Arthur heard himself say.

“So disobedient. Do you ever do as you’re told?” The tone was warm and affectionate.

“Never!”

Arthur tried to use his thighs to push against the solid body holding him down. This was a battle he intended to win. A few well-placed thrusts and his partner gave in, grinding against Arthur, sliding their cocks together. Arthur knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Merlin,” the man gasped. That was the tipping point, sending Arthur over the edge into a climax so powerful that he woke up.

As the haze of sleep and arousal faded, it dawned on Arthur what he’d just experienced. That hadn’t been his dream - it had been Merlin’s.

He felt a twinge of guilt. Of course he had no control over his involvement and never would have deliberately been a voyeur. But intentional or not, he hadn’t simply watched Merlin’s fantasy play out, he’d lived it.

All of that might have been excusable if it hadn’t been the single most erotic experience of his entire life.

Arthur knew he’d have to find a way to keep this from happening again. The trouble would be figuring out how to stop it without Merlin realizing what he’d seen. He’d have to give it serious thought. As he drifted back to sleep, though, his mind focused on one key piece of information he’d learned that night. Merlin liked men.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Arthur hastily pulled on his clothes, for once grateful that his servant was running late.

“You’re dressed.” Merlin sounded very relieved when he entered Arthur’s chambers.

“Don’t act so surprised, Merlin. I am capable of lacing my breeches. I just prefer when you do it.”

Not the best choice of words for this particular morning, but they slipped out anyway.

“I see.”

Arthur’s mind was suddenly flooded with the words to some folksong about flowers in the springtime as Merlin laid out his breakfast.

“Any more dreams about my mother last night?” Merlin’s face flushed bright red. Clearly they were both competing for the title of most awkward.

“Nope. No dreams. Not a one.”

Arthur grabbed a roll from the plate Merlin had set out, shoving it in his mouth to avoid further conversation. As a courtesy, he gestured for Merlin to take one as well. They both needed an excuse not to speak.

As Arthur finished breakfast and began to prepare for the day ahead, Merlin shocked him by requesting the tedious job of auditing tax rosters. Arthur figured out why when he heard assorted facts and figures softly echoing in his mind.

“Gaius thought this kind of work might help until things are sorted,” Merlin explained.

“In that case, you can take over all of my speeches and official correspondence. We’ll find someone else for stables and laundry. And Merlin, I know this isn’t easy. I would never try to hear things you want to keep private.”

That was a close to an apology for the previous night that Arthur could go without giving away what he’d witnessed.

“Thank you.”

Merlin smiled brightly at Arthur before resuming his work. The king suddenly found the room to be quite warm.

The afternoon passed in a blur for Arthur as he tried to catch up on things he’d missed the previous day. Supreme executive power came with far more obligations than he’d imagined when he was a young and carefree prince, the duties of the day extending into the early evening. By nightfall, all he wanted was to do was sleep.

After sharing a rushed meal, Arthur hastily shuffled Merlin out of the room so that there was no opportunity to discuss the king’s nighttime attire. Clothes shed in solitude, candles extinguished, Arthur slipped between the sheets and drifted off.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night no naked men crept into Arthur’s dreams. Instead, he found himself in a setting he hadn’t thought of in years. He stood in an open field. Though it was well after midnight, he could still see, bright moonlight illuminating the clearing as fires burned at the periphery.

Arthur felt overwhelmed with emotion – terror and sadness – as he turned to once again face the great dragon. He tried to calm himself. He had defeated this beast before – he could do it again. Only this time his sword was missing. That wasn’t good. As he frantically looked around for it, Arthur realized that something had happened to his armor. Rather than chainmail and bracers, his arms were clad in soft brown leather. Off to the side, he saw his own body, sprawled unmoving on the grass.

Ah. This was another of Merlin’s dreams. Though far less intimate than the one from the previous night, this was still meant for Merlin alone. Arthur tried to will himself awake but found it impossible. He then attempted to avert his eyes, but with no luck. Apparently whatever Merlin saw Arthur would see and there was nothing he could do about it.

He stood alone and unarmed, the rest of the knights either dead or wounded, staring down the dragon. The fear Arthur felt shifted, something more akin to confidence starting to build within Merlin. He opened his mouth and shouted out… Arthur wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, the dragon seemed to understand as it… knelt before him?

Merlin picked up a spear and made as though he might attack the beast, when it spoke, begging him for mercy.

Don’t listen to it, Arthur thought. Finish it off. You can’t trust it and this is your moment of glory.

Had this been Arthur’s dream, he would have slain the dragon and returned home to a hero’s welcome as the savior of Camelot. Instead, Merlin let the creature go unscathed, telling it to never return. He then ran to find Arthur.

“You dealt it a mortal blow.”

Rather than claiming the victory for himself, Merlin was letting Arthur have it, even though it was clearly unearned. And Merlin didn’t even seem frustrated about the lack of glory, his mind instead flooded with relief, both at the dragon’s departure and the fact that the prince hadn’t been seriously harmed.

How strange, thought Arthur the next morning as he rushed out of bed to dress before Merlin arrived with breakfast.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days passed in a similar manner. Arthur and Merlin kept themselves very busy. To an extent, it was part of the normal ebb and flow of royal life – a good king, after all, couldn’t simply sit around and be admired. Actual work went with the position and it was Merlin’s job to aid him. And yet they both sought extra tasks to complete. It gave Merlin something to focus on to help conceal his private thoughts and a way for Arthur to distract himself from anything that did slip through.

Still, council meetings, training sessions, and audiences with visiting dignitaries all proved dangerous. Merlin clearly had strong thoughts on a variety of matters and kept a commentary running in his head. If the king wasn’t focused enough, Merlin’s mental judgments might cause him to react at highly inappropriate moments.

“Arse,” Merlin thought loudly when a holdover advisor from Uther’s era questioned one of Arthur’s decisions.

Arthur shot Merlin a stern glance, though he was secretly pleased. They were learning to navigate this new development just as they did all the trouble they faced, easing back into their comfortable camaraderie.

When he slept, Arthur still found himself fully immersed in Merlin’s dreams. Apart from the visit to Hunith and the rendezvous with the mystery man, the rest were similar in format to the encounter with the dragon. Each night Arthur relived one of their adventures from the past, now told from Merlin’s perspective. Merlin’s subconscious liked to play with the facts, making revisions to write him as the unsung hero of the day.

Arthur’s quest for the golden trident became the story of Merlin’s audience with the Fisher King. Along the way Merlin got to rescue Arthur from a pack of wyverns. It was Merlin who defeated the sorceress Nimueh and simultaneously saved Arthur from the bite of the questing beast by offering his own life in exchange. Apparently rescuing others from peril was a major fantasy of Merlin’s, as Arthur witnessed him saving Guinevere, her father, Lancelot, and even the Princess Elena.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Arthur considered the heroic scenes from Merlin’s unconscious mind, he realized that he had failed at outwardly acknowledging the courage Merlin had demonstrated over the years.

“I’ve always thought you’re the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

It slipped out by accident one night during dinner but it needed to be said.

“Well, it does take considerable fortitude to serve you, my lord, what with the messes you make and the…”

“I mean it, Merlin. You’re always there with me, even when some of the most devoted knights would rightly stay behind.”

“It’s like I told you ages ago, I care a hell of lot about your armor.”

Merlin tried to shrug the praise off with a laugh but Arthur could feel the swell of pride underneath.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not all of Merlin’s dreams were pleasant ones. Some of the most heartbreaking took place away from Arthur.

In one instance, Merlin fell in love with a cursed young woman named Freya, his plans to run away with her foiled by her death. Arthur awoke the next day full of anguish, wondering if Freya was someone Merlin had known – she seemed very real in the dream. Regardless, Arthur vowed to be kinder to Merlin, lest he actually decide to leave.

On another night, Arthur watched Merlin agonizing over whether or not to poison Morgana to save the rest of Camelot from a sleeping spell. Morgana was a threat and Merlin knew he must take action, but he didn’t want to harm his friend.

That dream made Arthur remember a very tense period between Merlin and Morgana a few years back. Despite his best efforts to pry it out of Merlin, the man refused to tell him what had led to their falling out or their later reconciliation, right before Morgana left Camelot to live with the druids. (The letters he periodically received reported that she was happy and healthy staying with them, just as Merlin had predicted.)

The more he pondered what he saw, the more Arthur questioned why magic played such a prominent role in Merlin’s nighttime escapades. Arthur understood that the content of one’s dreams was largely random and not consciously chosen. So why did Merlin repeatedly save the day by using sorcery? Maybe because he lacked skill with a sword?

Since Arthur lived each dream from Merlin’s perspective, he too felt what it was like to use magic, or at least some imagined form of it. Rather than sinister or corrupting, it was warm and familiar and it wanted to help. Just like Merlin. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur was completely relieved and not at all disappointed that thus far only one of the many dreams he’d witnessed was of an amorous nature. Merlin’s erotic fantasies were his own and Arthur shouldn’t be privy to them. If Merlin wanted to writhe underneath a naked man, that was his own business. Arthur refused to think about it any further. Or so he tried to tell himself.

The problem was that Arthur had become fixated on that dream. Yes, yes, he occasionally thought about the others, but not as often or in as much detail. He once remembered it during a council meeting, resulting in a very visible problem that left the king seated long after the final item of business had been addressed. Arthur had gotten a thorough trouncing from Gwaine on the training ground one afternoon when his mind decided to randomly wonder what the encounter would feel like for Merlin’s partner.

That new image then crept into Arthur’s wank sessions. He wasn’t proud to admit that he had already touched himself while remembering sensations from Merlin’s perspective. But after that day at training, he regularly imagined what it would feel like if he were the unknown stranger, Merlin’s body underneath his. To wrap his arms around Merlin and hold him close. To playfully command him to slow down. To silence his endless prattle with kisses. To grind his cock against Merlin’s.

Arthur wished his mind would stop conjuring such images as it was becoming difficult for a full day to pass without needing to relieve the tension.

From a rational standpoint, Arthur suspected that he was doing was wrong, though true feelings of guilt and remorse never surfaced. The heart (and body) wants what it will, he supposed. Nothing would ever come of it and no one had to know of his new masturbatory fantasies.

His own desires acknowledged, Arthur turned his attention to Merlin’s. Was the mystery man real or imagined? Pretty much everyone else in Merlin’s dreams had been someone he knew, so who could this man be? The musculature suggested one of the knights. Merlin was good friends with all of them and spent a lot of time in their company. Or maybe it was another servant, someone whose days of chopping firewood and hauling water built such strong arms.

The longer this line of thinking persisted, the more Arthur started to resent the man. When had they met? How long had they been seeing each other? Did he really love Merlin? Why hadn’t Merlin ever mentioned him?

It’s true that Arthur had won many a tournament in his day, but this stranger had won Merlin’s heart. What made the man so damn special? Would Merlin one day decide to run off with him, having finally had enough of Arthur’s insults and dirty laundry?

Obviously he couldn’t force Merlin to stay against his will. And falling in love and pairing up was a normal part of life for many people, though not, it seemed, for Arthur. Uther had always presented marriage as a strategic arrangement, another royal obligation, though one Arthur was all too happy to shirk after his father’s death. Merlin’s speech about marrying for love had stuck with Arthur over the years. Partnering for political gain seemed hollow, insincere, and incredibly lonely.

Arthur had long since ceased his awkward attempts at courting eligible noblewomen. The people of Camelot, full of adoration for their new king, simply accepted that he likely wouldn’t have a queen, and instead turned their gossip to the merit-based plan of succession he was developing.

Part of why Arthur stopped looking for a wife was because he had always assumed that Merlin would stay at his side, as he had done for more than a decade now, their unique bond of friendship sustaining them through the years. He’d never really considered Merlin as a romantic partner. Not because Merlin wasn’t attractive – regardless of Arthur’s teasing, the man was quite nice to look at. And he was wise, suspiciously so, and understood Arthur in a way that no one else did.

No, the issue was that Arthur had spent too many years closely guarding his heart, a survival strategy developed to protect himself from his father. Only Uther was long-since dead but Arthur still maintained his emotional defenses.

Or he had at least until that stupid dream, which had awakened something in Arthur that he couldn’t put back to rest even if he wanted to. It left him grappling with the realization that he was both in love and lust with Merlin, but far too late to do anything about it, thanks to this unknown interloper.

The king was still contemplating the man’s identity one afternoon when Merlin interrupted his theorizing.

“Can you please stop butting in to my conversations?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For the past week you’ve dragged me away every time I’ve tried to speak to Leon or Elyan or Gwaine. It’s like you don’t want me talking to them. Especially Gwaine. If there’s a reason why…”

“No. No reason. Didn’t realize I was doing it.”

Merlin gave Arthur a questioning look but didn’t push the subject. The king tried his best not to hear the ‘I don’t believe you’ Merlin loudly thought.

After a month passed with no remedy from Gaius, Arthur supposed that this would simply be how they spent the rest of their lives. Though it had been awkward at first, the connection no longer bothered him. He’d never admit it, but he had grown to enjoy the constant hum of Merlin’s thoughts in the background and the oddly comforting sensation it created. Sharing dreams with Merlin made him feel closer to the man, as if he knew him better, even if they were only flights of fancy.

Each morning Merlin would cautiously ask if he remembered his dreams. Arthur always lied and said no, hoping Merlin wouldn’t grow suspicious. The king continued to refuse any help with dressing and bathing. He couldn’t risk it with the thoughts he’d been having as of late.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Truth is a force to be reckoned with and cannot easily be contained. And so it came to pass that Arthur’s deceptions were exposed about two months after the ordeal began.

In hindsight, Arthur accepted that he shouldn’t have been drinking that night. Or at least not so much. But the wine served with dinner was exceptionally good and he wanted to relax. Plus the longer he insisted that Merlin fill his cup, the longer he could keep Merlin in the room with him.

He really should rest but how could he when Merlin’s face lit up like that as he told Arthur some ridiculous story about the kitchen maids? To send Merlin away would mean that Arthur would have to stop looking at his slender fingers as they gripped the bottle to refill his drink. Arthur’s rebellious mind began to ponder other uses for those fingers when Merlin spoke up, saving the king from himself.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s after midnight and you’ve already had two bottles. You really should go to sleep.”

“I’m the king Merlin. I give the orders. But yes, I suppose I should.”

Arthur went to stand but tripped, the wine making him unsteady on his feet.

“Here. Let’s get you to bed.”

Arthur sincerely hoped that the moan he heard was just in his mind and hadn’t actually slipped out.

Merlin wrapped an arm around him and maneuvered him to the bed.

“Sit. I suppose I’ll have to undress you tonight as you’re in no state to do it yourself.”

Even through his drunken stupor, Arthur could feel the unease now radiating off of Merlin. It was exactly like the last time Merlin had helped him, the night of The Dream.

That realization made Arthur self-conscious and he tried to help Merlin wrangle him out of his tunic. Arthur’s lack of coordination sabotaged Merlin’s efforts, causing the two men to topple over, Merlin underneath Arthur.

“S’nice,” Arthur slurred as he felt Merlin’s palms pressing against his chest. He knew it didn’t mean anything, knew it couldn’t last, but he still decided to enjoy the moment.

“You’re drunk.” Merlin gave him a hard shove and resumed his work, now moving at twice the pace.

“True,” Arthur replied, letting Merlin shuffle him into sleeping breeches.

A thought was forming in Arthur’s mind, the wine bringing together all the puzzle pieces that had preoccupied him for the past few weeks. He understood now – Merlin’s discomfort, the unknown man, all of the dreams… Arthur had finally figured it out. He should let Merlin know. And tell him that it was ok.

“I may be drunk,” Arthur began, “but you, Merlin… you are in love with a sorcerer. And I want you to know that I understand. He’s very beautiful. At least you think he is. And you are beautiful. And you deserve to be happy.”

Arthur couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotions pulsing through Merlin. It’s true that the man’s defenses were falling, his thoughts echoing more loudly in Arthur’s mind. There was shock and fear and… was that embarrassment?

Merlin laughed, though Arthur could sense sadness underneath.

“Arthur, I assure you that the person I am in love with is most definitely not a sorcerer. Quite the opposite actually.”

“Really Merlin, it’s fine. I saw him.”

“You saw him?”

“About two months ago. In a dream. Well, saw isn’t quite the right word. It was dark. More like felt him. With you. I didn’t mean to – it just happened. But Merlin, you have to be careful. Because magic can corrupt. And there is the matter of the law. But if he’s good to you, if he loves you as much as you love him, we can work something out. Because you are so important to me. And I want you to be happy.”

Merlin’s embarrassment had escalated into mortification. Still, the wine had loosened Arthur’s tongue and he couldn’t shut up.

“I can see how the magic might be seductive. It’s so warm and familiar. And powerful. You like to write yourself as the magical hero in your dreams. Because your sorcerer gives you ideas. And I see that you have no malice. And apparently neither does he. You should bring him to dinner. I want to meet him. I need to know who you chose instead of…”

“You saw my dreams.”

Merlin’s voice was quiet, dangerously so. He had risen from Arthur’s bed and now stood, body rigid, eyes fixed on the door, arms at his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists. The lack of outward emotion betrayed the panic that Arthur could feel surging under the surface. He wanted to calm Merlin but didn’t know how.

“It wasn’t on purpose. I think I’ve been sharing your dreams. The dragon, the questing beast, Freya, your lover. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so I didn’t say anything. But Merlin, you shouldn’t have to hide your heart.”

“Good night, my lord.”

Ignoring the king’s calls to wait, Merlin strode to the door and left. There was a finality in the sound of the metal of the latch falling into place. It snapped Arthur back to full sobriety and a pretty good idea of just how badly he’d screwed things up.

An hour later, Arthur realized that it was worse than he had initially assumed. He felt Merlin’s raw anguish, filtering through the barrier of herbalism trivia he was using to try to block out the king.

Arthur was pretty sure Merlin was alone in his bed. Why hadn’t he sought out his lover for comfort? Did the man only want him for his body? The heartless bastard.

Unsure of what else to do, Arthur tried to fall asleep, hoping foolishly that he’d wake the next day to find everything had somehow fixed itself as he slept.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night the dreams were different. Arthur still saw the world filtered through Merlin’s perspective, the magic ever-present. But rather than a single linear event playing out as before, this time he witnessed bits and pieces of different scenes jumbled together.

A man stood in front of Merlin – he looked familiar. It was Cedric, the scheming servant possessed by the spirit of a long-dead sorcerer. He was goading Merlin, arguing that Arthur treated him poorly, didn’t truly see or appreciate him.

“You have such power,” Cedric had said, trying to switch Merlin’s loyalty.

The ploy didn’t work, Merlin defeating the spirit, his devotion to Arthur never wavering. And yet Cedric’s words apparently contained an element of truth evidenced by the sadness Merlin felt when he heard them.

The dream shifted away from the courtyard. Merlin was lamenting to Gaius about Arthur.

“I do so much for him and he thinks I’m an idiot. I wish he could see me, just once as I truly am.”

“One day…” Gaius began, before fading, his face replaced by Lancelot’s. Merlin was congratulating his friend for finally earning a knighthood.

“You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it.”

“He can't. Not yet.”

And then Lancelot was gone. Merlin now stood in the Camelot throne room, facing down Uther’s vengeful spirit. Arthur had been terrified that day but here was Merlin, defiant and proud in spite of the danger.

“I have magic,” Merlin said, his voice strong and unwavering. “I was born with it.”

The dream cut to a castle storeroom where Uther had trapped Merlin, his magic unable to banish the ghost without the Horn of Cathbhadh. Arthur saw himself approaching with it, felt Merlin’s relief at the sight of him. He remembered how Uther had tried to tell him something about Merlin, a stalling tactic, Arthur had assumed at the time. Only now memory and dream diverged.

“Merlin has magic.”

“I don’t care,” Arthur said in the dream, before sending Uther back to the spirit realm.

As soon as Uther’s apparition faded, Arthur ran forward to Merlin, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I was so scared that I’d lost you,” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s hair.

The storeroom morphed into the king’s chambers, Arthur and Merlin sitting on the bed, clinging to each other.

“You’ve done so much for me. Now let me take care of you.”

Arthur, still seeing the world from Merlin’s perspective, watched as this imagined version of himself leaned into Merlin, gently easing him against the pillows.

Merlin’s body shuddered as Arthur closed the space between them, his weight bearing down on Merlin, their chests now pressed together. Merlin, overwhelmed with emotion, shut his eyes.

Warm breath ghosted across Merlin’s face, right before soft lips pressed against his own. Merlin kissed back as though his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around Arthur and slinging a leg over his hip.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Please come back,” Merlin gasped when his partner finally pulled away to breathe.

“Shh…” Arthur heard himself say. “There’s no need to rush. We have all night.”

He’d heard those words before in one of Merlin’s dreams. In The Dream, to be precise.

“But when the night ends…”

“Then we’ll have tomorrow. And the night after that. And the next. For as long as you want.”

“I want forever.”

“Thank the gods for that. Because for me, Merlin, it’s you. It’s always been you. It always will be you.”

And then they were naked, Merlin crying out as he dreamt of Arthur’s erection pressed against his own, no layers of fabric separating them.

The realization of what was about to happen next, Arthur supposed, was what woke him. It was one thing to fantasize about Merlin or dream of a nameless stranger. But, intriguing as the concept might be, he wasn’t quite ready to do… that… with himself. And anyway, he had much to think about.

Arthur tried to make sense of all that had happened that night, everything he’d seen in Merlin’s dreams. After intense deliberation, he made a decision.

Though dawn was still a couple of hours away, the king rose. Pulling on a tunic over his sleeping breeches, he opened the door to his chambers and wandered the hall until he found a guard.

“Bring me Merlin. Now. And have the kitchens send food for two. When he gets here, let Leon know that we are not to be disturbed for any reason short of a national emergency.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur attempted to distract himself as he waited, making his own bed for the very first time in his life. Not bad, he thought, as he sat on the lumpy pile of bedlinens.

He tried his hardest not to listen to Merlin’s thoughts. Despite his efforts, Arthur knew with certainty that Merlin was furious at having been roused from his sleep. The king suspected Merlin wanted him to know.

After what felt like an eternity, his angry servant burst through the door, still in his nightclothes, and glaring at Arthur with an intensity that could likely kill a gryphon. Best to get to the point then.

“You’re a sorcerer. All those dreams weren’t really dreams. They were memories. You did all of those things. For Guinevere, and Lancelot, and Freya. And me. Using magic.”

Merlin nodded but said nothing, his stance rigid, face unreadable, panic and terror swirling within.

“And you were born with magic – it’s ok. I’m not mad and I swear that no harm will come to you.”

That at least seemed to mitigate Merlin’s urge to flee. Arthur could feel it start to fade, replaced by a flare of rage and shame. What could be causing… oh… tonight’s dreams.

“I didn’t want to see. I’ve tried for weeks not to. It’s just, I don’t know how to stop it. I am truly sorry.”

Merlin considered him for a moment.

“It’s not your fault. Neither of us asked for this.”

That’s progress, thought Arthur. The question still remained of how to make Merlin relax.

“Here, sit.” Arthur gestured to the bed.

“No. No way. Not after…” Arthur felt Merlin’s embarrassment before the flush reached his face.

“Merlin, I give you my oath as king of Camelot that I will not take advantage of you. It’s a big bed and for once, I made it myself. Pick a corner and sit.”

Reluctantly, Merlin did so, eying the rumpled blankets and untucked sheets as he chose a spot well out of reach from Arthur. Even with the tension between them, Arthur could still sense Merlin judging his attempt at housekeeping.

“Not up to your standards?”

“It’s awful.”

“Then perhaps you’ll have to train me.”

That earned Arthur the tiniest of smiles. They might survive this after all.

“Thank you. For all that you’ve done.”

“Arthur, I… wait… what?”

It broke Arthur’s heart when he realized that the question was being asked in earnest. In his surprise, Merlin forgot to keep Arthur out of his mind, revealing that he’d expected the nighttime royal summons to have a far different outcome. It horrified Arthur to learn that even after all these years, after all they’d been through, Merlin still feared the pyre.

“Lancelot was right. You really are the bravest of us all. And Merlin, I swear to you, you will never have anything to fear from me.”

Merlin’s shoulders slumped, tension draining from his body. The flood of emotions – shock, relief, exhaustion, exhilaration – was almost overwhelming for Arthur. 

“There’s… there’s more. You’ve seen some of it but not all. There’s so much more that…”

“Show me.”

“Show you?”

“We are linked, Merlin. If you’re willing, you could show me.”

“It’s a lot. It might take a while.”

“We have food and the guards have strict orders to not disturb us. Take as long as you need.”

“Can I…?” Though his vague gesture was less than helpful, Arthur knew what he was asking.

“Of course. Get comfortable.”

After kicking off his boots, Merlin scooted up beside Arthur so that he could lean back against the headboard.

“It… um… the connection might be stronger if we…”

Arthur nodded and Merlin took his hand. Arthur tried his best not to think of how perfectly their fingers fit together.

He could feel Merlin fighting the impulse to keep him out, eventually relaxing enough to let down all the mental barriers he’d been building over the past couple of months.

It was unlike anything Arthur had ever experienced before, the dreams included. He was, of course, still himself. But… how could he describe it? It was as though he was wrapped up in Merlin. Arthur couldn’t think of a time when he’d ever felt safer.

Then the images started. Over the next few hours, Arthur watched events from Merlin’s life play out in his mind. Many of them he remembered, but others were unknown. As expected, there were numerous triumphs – feats of courage and strength similar to those he’d had already witnessed. Mixed in was far more heartache and tragedy than Arthur felt any person should have to bear. How could Merlin endure it by himself?

The short answer was that Merlin wasn’t really alone. It’s true he had to conceal the magic, but his memories were filled with warmth and love. He had family – his mother, obviously, but also a family he’d found in Camelot with Gaius and Guinevere and the knights.

And then there was Arthur. To see oneself through another’s eyes is an unsettling prospect, one that Arthur faced with trepidation as he remembered the unreasonable workloads, relentless teasing, and occasional bursts of anger that he’d directed at Merlin, especially in the first couple of years that they’d known each other. Yes, there was hurt and frustration. But even more so, there was friendship and admiration and… love.

Merlin loved him, was in love with him – had been for years. It wasn’t simply desire, though there was a rather flattering amount of that as well. When Merlin had said in his dream that he wanted Arthur with him forever, he’d meant it. Merlin, whose kind nature and good looks could have won him the hand of almost anyone in Camelot, wanted Arthur – not because of the throne or wealth or power – but because of Arthur’s heart. Which Merlin apparently held in much higher regard than Arthur did.

That realization was so staggering that Arthur dropped Merlin’s hand.

“I just need a minute… that was a lot.” He tried to reassure Merlin as he thought this through.

“I imagine. Although it was kind of a relief for me. It’s been exhausting trying to keep you out.”

“Have you and Gaius made any progress on reversing the connection?”

“Nothing has worked. I even talked to the druids but no luck. There are several spells for establishing a mental bond, but the magic involved is next to impossible to undo. A lot of them were created for Old Religion marriage rituals.”

That was intriguing, though it led to a very obvious question.

“So why would that old man have been trying to…?”

“Actually, you’re pretty lucky there. He was attempting a killing curse but when the spell hit us both, my magic kind of… changed it… into something else that wasn’t lethal. At least, that’s Gaius’s best theory.”

“Your magic can do that? Just act on its own without you telling it to…”

“It’s hard to explain. It’s a part of me – it knows me. And sometimes, especially when there’s danger and not a lot of time to react, it jumps in and does what it thinks I might have wanted to do.”

“Oh.”

“So it looks like you’ll be seeing my dreams for the foreseeable future. Gaius is still working on a potion that might help me keep you out but… please don’t hate me too much. I can’t really control my dreams. And I understand if you’d rather I wasn’t around when you change or bathe or…”

They fell into silence, Arthur thinking. Merlin hadn’t run off earlier when Arthur first started blathering about sharing his dreams. He’d answered Arthur’s summons when he easily could’ve escaped using magic. And then he’d laid bare his deepest secrets, inviting Arthur in to see. To do all of that required immense courage. Maybe it was time for Arthur to be brave as well.

“Those spells that create the link – are they difficult to cast?”

“I’ve never tried but I wouldn’t think so. They’re surprisingly simple considering how hard it is to break them.”

“Would you? Cast one, I mean?”

“I suppose so. If two people really wanted to be joined that way and if it would make them happy, I can’t think of a reason not to. Though I’d send them to talk to you first, let them know what they’re getting into…”

“Will you cast it on me?”

“I… what? Why?”

“To complete the link. So that it’s not just one-way.”

“Arthur, if I did that, then I would be able to hear your thoughts and see your dreams.”

“I know.”

“And I likely won’t ever be able to reverse it.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because… because I’m the king and I say so.”

“Arthur!”

Be brave, Arthur thought to himself. Be brave, be brave, be brave.

“Because I don’t want to do this half-way, Merlin. You know me better than anyone else and I thought I knew you. Only these past couple of months, I discovered that there’s so much more that I didn’t know. I hate that I saw it the way that I did because you didn’t get to choose and I know it’s been hard for you. But I’m still glad that it happened. Except it’s not fair that this only goes one way. There are so many things I’ve wanted to tell you. I often fail with words, especially when there are feelings involved, but nothing has ever been more important to me than you, Merlin, and…”

Arthur took a deep breath – there would be no going back after this.

“I’m in love with you.”

It was nice, Arthur supposed, to know that he could still surprise Merlin. Though he’d rather not feel the shock and disbelief overwhelming the man. Or hear the next words to come out of his mouth.

“No, Arthur. You can’t be. I would know… Since when?”

“Since forever. Only I didn’t understand it until last month. When you had that dream… about the man… I was trying to figure out who he was and why you chose him and then I realized that you might leave. And I wouldn’t stop you, I swear, but it would break my heart to lose you.”

Arthur hadn’t even finished his sentence before Merlin had pounced, straddling his thighs, cutting off the rest of Arthur’s declaration with a kiss.

Before his link with Merlin, Arthur had never considered how it would feel to be pinned down by the weight of a lover on top of him, pressing him against the mattress, kissing him within an inch of his life. He had thought he’d gained an understanding from Merlin’s dreams. He had been wrong. The real thing was far, far better.

He wrapped his arms around Merlin’s body, holding him close and kissing him back, trying to pour what he was feeling into the kiss. It was wet and messy and definitely lacking grace – in other words, it was perfect.

Arthur would’ve been content to lay there for the rest of the day and into the night, kissing Merlin nonstop. Merlin, however, had other ideas.

So much of what followed was similar to the dreams Arthur had witnessed. His own body pinned down, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin, pulling him closer still. After a few minutes he let a hand trail down Merlin’s back to his waist. When he caught himself toying with the band of Merlin’s breeches, Arthur’s breathing hitched.

Merlin paused his kisses and pulled back, looking down to give Arthur a smile and a small nod.

Cautiously, Arthur slid his fingers underneath the fabric, fingers tracing along Merlin’s hip, his bravery rewarded with a gasp from Merlin.

“Wait,” Merlin panted, then whispered an incantation to magic away their clothes.

The feel of Merlin’s skin against his own was exquisite, offset only by the panic beginning to set in. This wasn’t the sort of thing that Arthur did that often. Apart from a few awkward adolescent fumbles, Arthur had limited experience in this area, especially with a man, and absolutely not with anyone as important as Merlin. This needed to be perfect and he was very worried he was going to…

“Hey, need a minute?” Merlin had noticed that things weren’t quite right. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…”

“What?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing. You know this isn’t the sort of thing I do that often. Especially with someone else. Mostly it’s something I do… alone.”

It was humiliating to admit, but it was the truth.

Merlin considered this.

“Do you like it? When you touch yourself?”

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper and Arthur’s face burned.

“Will you show me?”

“Show you… Oh!”

Merlin used their connection to let Arthur know exactly what he meant.

Merlin sat up, still straddling Arthur. Reaching for Arthur’s hand, he brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“You don’t have to,” Merlin whispered against his knuckles, “but if you want to…”

“Yes. Gods yes. I’ll probably get it wrong but…”

“Hush.” Merlin lowered Arthur’s hand between their bodies, pressing Arthur’s fingers to his cock. “Show me how you like it, Arthur.”

Arthur’s hand shook as he slowly grasped Merlin. That sensation, of finally touching Merlin, after so many nights of imagining it, almost undid Arthur. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then began to move.

The angle was different than what he was used to and a mixture of excitement and nervousness threw off his rhythm. Merlin didn’t seem to mind, his breathing labored as he bit his lower lip, eyes locked on Arthur’s hand. Gently, Merlin closed his own fingers over Arthur’s.

“Keep going,” he whispered when Arthur hesitated. “I just want to know…”

Arthur kept moving, watching their fingers slide along Merlin’s shaft. Arthur’s own cock was painfully hard, aching for contact. He grasped it with his free hand.

“Let me.”

Arthur shivered as Merlin’s touch replaced his, slender fingers gently exploring, dancing along his length. And then Merlin began working him earnest, grip and pace matching Arthur’s own.

Merlin leaned down to kiss him, then whispered in his ear.

“Show me what you need.”

Arthur tightened his grip and sped up, Merlin following suit.

“I’m about to…”

“It’s ok. I’ve got you. Just…”

And with that, Arthur let go, gasping as his release spilled out, coating Merlin’s hand, pushing him over the edge along with Arthur. Through their link, Arthur could feel his Merlin’s climax mixed in with his own. Waves of pleasure wracked his body. Lights and sounds faded. Time stopped. It seemed that there was nothing in all of existence but Arthur and Merlin and this one perfect moment.

I could die right now and I wouldn’t care, Arthur thought, relishing the firm weight of Merlin’s body, the smell of his hair pressed against Arthur’s face. He kissed Merlin’s ear, earning him a gentle laugh.

“What a mess,” Merlin muttered as he rolled off of Arthur.

“Yes, well. I’m sure I can find someone to clean it up.”

A few whispered words from Merlin were all it took.

“You cheated.”

A thought crossed Arthur’s mind.

“How many times have you used magic for cleaning?”

Merlin began to hum some tune that was popular with the tavern goers.

“That often then?”

Lying on his back, staring up at the canopy, Merlin said nothing. Arthur scooted closer to rest his head on Merlin’s chest. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and sighed.

“Do you still want me to cast the spell?” Merlin asked softly. “It’s ok if you changed your mind. Or if you need a few days to think…”

“Merlin, there is nothing I want more in the world. Can you do it right now?”

“I’ll need a book from my room.”

“Help me get dressed and let’s go.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The king had been locked his chambers with Merlin for hours, leaving Sir Leon to deal with petitioners, direct training, and generally handle all pressing matters of state. Leon had grown used to this sort of thing happening. A little more advanced notice would’ve been nice, but that could be overlooked considering how much better life in Camelot had become under Arthur’s rule.

Still, Leon did have plans for the evening. When he heard that Arthur and Merlin had been spotted sprinting toward Gaius’s chambers, he decided to check in. Just to make sure everything was ok. And to maybe hand back the reins of power to the king so that Leon could relax at the tavern.

“You’ll find them in Merlin’s room,” Gaius said when Leon entered his workshop. The old man didn’t look up from the herbs he was chopping.

“Er, thanks Gaius.”

“Good luck.”

Leon took a brief second to compose himself. When the king and his manservant went off alone, there was no telling what Leon might find. Once they’d caught him off guard with some nonsense about poetry, but since then he’d worked hard to perfect the art of not appearing surprised or flustered. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of letting his placid demeanor slip today.

“Just a second,” Merlin’s voice called as Leon rapped on the door.

There was laughter, the thud of something like a large book hitting the floor, and then sounds reminiscent of a very wet kiss. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a disheveled Arthur flanked by Merlin, both clad in rumpled sleeping clothes.

“Ah, Leon. What brings you here?”

“I, um, just wanted to make sure you were alright, sire. We missed you at training and…”

“Everything’s fine. Better than fine, actually. Merlin and I were just… practicing sorcery.”

I know what they’re doing and it won’t work, Leon thought. They will not get a rise out of me.

“I see. Shall I leave you to your sorcery then?”

Arthur paused, turning to stare at Merlin intently. If Leon didn’t know better, he’d say that they were having an unspoken conversation.

“Actually, convene the council. There have been new developments and, um, much to discuss. I need to make some official proclamations.”

“Of course, sire. I’ll see you in the council chamber.”

About damn time, thought Leon as he shared an exasperated look with Gaius. They were made for each other and if they went public, maybe his life would be a little less complicated. It well was worth missing a night at the tavern, especially since he was about to win the knights’ betting pool.


End file.
